I always sit back and wonder when someone has deeply wronged me if they will ever face any repercussions. That if/when it does come around are you allowed to be happy? Or is that just vengeful, heartless, and inhumane? After all what they did was inhumane however does my feeling relieved make me sink to their level in a way…?
Today my ex friend/robber/rapist died. Apparently the obituary (which why did I even read- such an emotionally cutting thing to do) said that he went peacefully in his sleep. Although the three years I knew and was close to him I wonder if it was a drug induced passing- that is neither here nor there I suppose. Is my reaction of “There is the justice I didn’t receive since I was unable to file charges!” cruel to have thought instantly? —- I suppose this is time to reveal the story I had insinuated with some previous posts that I would divulge eventually. Since I am so raw today having flashbacks from that traumatic incident this is a perfect day to expel these demons ….So here goes nothing…
* The Story*
I had been friends with (no names will be used, let’s call him “B”) since I was even married 7+ years ago. Not very many people liked him as he was quite volatile and not a “people person” unable to maintain healthy relationships with his frequent outbursts. However I was able to understand him since he confided with me with a lot of his inner demons and me being the caregiver I am was always trying to help him. Flash forward now to about a year or so after my divorce was final. We always were close friends, having adventures, going on little photography excursions since we both are photographers. This particular night he called me overwhelmed with an ensuing panic attack. He said he was at a bar getting drunk and about to get in a fight since he had just suffered a tragic loss of his fiance’ having a miscarriage and dumping him due to his abuse. So I went to pick him up, paid for his drinks, and didn’t want to take him to his house as I had never seen him so upset I was worried he might harm himself. He had a serious heart condition and panic attacks certainly could have killed him even if he were not to attempt to by his own doing. I took him back to my house where I had one my best friends and her child living with me at the time to help her get to on solid ground. Her boyfriend at the time showed up and just never left- settling himself into my home and kindness. I allowed it since the three of us got along quite well. I brought “B” to my house we had some beers and all laughed and were going to watch a movie. I was so happy that his disposition changed so fast, and my taking him under my wing so to speak helped. Well somewhere along the line my prescription medicine for sleep got involved in our drinking (and stolen). The boys took one or maybe two since I was not looking, and I still remember the shock when “B” crushed it on my table and rolled up a dollar bill to snort it. I had never seen this before except for in a movie!? I do not remember anything else after this… I had three beers but my memory was wiped. I’m not sure when it could have been spiked since I was distracted looking for something to cook for us, playing DJ with my Ipod, and just being silly.
The next morning I woke up in my son’s bed naked and covered in finger-tipped bruises. I’ll never forget the sight of Lincoln looking over my head smiling so big and bright that mommy had slept next to him. I shudder to think what else could have happened since he is mainly non verbal and unable to tell me if something awful had happened. I Will not think of that now because I cannot handle that disturbing thought. I stood up and put some clothes on and nearly fainted. Stumbling down my hallway holding onto the wall I see piles of vomit everywhere (mine even though again I have no recollection). My house was trashed- bottles everywhere, various objects misplaced, cigarette butts and more beer bottles strewn all over my patio. I stumbled to the ground, found a towel, and vomited more. I laid down on the towel I put on the tile floor and violently shook, not from the nausea but from the side effects of whatever drug that apparently was still in my system. Crying in the fetal position still shaking but now rocking back and forth I hear my best friend outside screaming at her boyfriend on the phone. I didn’t hear much since the door was closed but I heard the word Heroin. At that point I realize that both of them were gone. My car keys were not where I always had left them. And my debit/credit card was not in my wallet. I ask my friend what the Hell happened and got evasive answers. My son was put on his school-bus so thankfully he did not see me this way.
I try desperately to pump everyone for information only to be ignored or given very different stories, and then attempt to clean up my house even though I felt the strangest sickness I’d ever felt in my life- How could I still feel nauseous and keep dry heaving my stomach even though it was emptied? I then make it to my bathroom- It looked like a surreal crime-scene. More piles of my vomit, shower curtain and rod ripped down along with my towel rack, random things on the floor. I check my bank account- all my money is missing besides about $20 (granted there was only around $180 in it)! Thankfully my son’s school bus arrives at 3:45. I drive there and now notice my car is dented, the hubcap is missing, it is filled with cigarette ashes (I don’t smoke), and the backseat is drenched with an unidentified smell. I go to pick him up and immediately head to the bank to cancel my card. Then take him to get his favorite chicken nuggets and walk around Target still so confused and in a surreal daze. I had continually texted them to demand answers only to be ignored. At this point ADT calls me and informs me that the alarm in my bedroom window is going off (they knew when his bus came) But they did not know I had an advanced security system besides just the door sensors. The operator asks me if I want police to be dispatched since my bedroom window sensor alarm was going off and I burst into tears saying “Yes Please. Please send them right away!?”.
Arriving at my house they were not there so I called 911. Apparently they had came out so quick and left assuming it to be a false alarm. I say please have them come back right away, and then called another one of my best friends who lived very close to come over and help me with my son. When the police showed up they secured the premises and were about to leave wondering why on earth I was sitting on the floor bawling my eyes out. Finally I uttered the words “I was robbed and might have been raped”… Well they certainly jumped to attention now. My girlfriend took Lincoln out to his playground so I could speak with one of the officers, or try to speak rather nearly choking from the overflowing tears and panic. I show him the bruises, the bathroom disaster which still had some of my vomit on the floor and in the bathtub. Immediately he says you need to go to the hospital to get a rape kit done. “I can’t I have my son!” I said. Meanwhile my girlfriend informed the other officer of these people’s names. A even bigger cause for concern arose as he recognized ALL their names from previous offenses.
At this point they went from suggesting to insisting I go to the hospital for the kit to be done. I call my ex husband 9 or 10 times… No answer. I call my mom and dad. I call another one of my best friends. No one answers and I fall to pieces. They wanted to throw me into their car and take me themselves but I did not know what to do since I had my son. I decide to let my friend who was there take me but she had to leave shortly after taking us the emergency room. It was packed. I write on the paper “I might have been raped”– within 5 minutes they take me back to a private room to speak with someone and explain the severity of the situation. Thankfully they did not keep me long but admitted me nearly instantly. I change into the gown and they bag my clothes. They start to give me a prophylactic. Thankfully my other friend was able to come get my son and bring him to my parents who very unwillingly took him overnight (they had not ever at this point and he was 5). Then the rest of the “fun” started. Before any of the excruciatingly hard stuff started an advocate from SPARCC came to my side to help me navigate all the paperwork and my options. The papers calling me “the victim” was a tougher pill to swallow then all the antibiotics, anti-pregnancy, and anti-AIDS medicines that could not be injected as the plethora of other ones were. It took so long to get everything done I was there for a total of about 9 hours. The nurse informed me that she hadn’t performed one in about 10 years- I’m not sure if that is good news that either no other rapes occurred or that these people were too afraid to go through this horrendous process….
After all was said and done I called my friends who said they would pick me up but unfortunately it was around 4 am at this point so no one could be reached. I was told that the normal procedure is to have a mandatory stay at the mental institution overnight for suicide watch. However they decided that it wasn’t needed for me. So I called a cab and went to my house that was no longer and never would be a home to me. Going back to the crime scene alone at 4 am was pretty damn incredibly strong on my part if I do say so myself. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t change my clothes from the ones that my SPARCC rep gave me. Didn’t shower. Just sat in a state of numbness. Picking up my son from the bus I was still in the same state but had to take him to his ABA therapy appointment since I didn’t want him to miss out despite the wreck I was.
At the appointment my eyes were probably 3 times the normal size all puffy and the therapist asked if I was Ok…. I immediately burst into tears and said “NO! I was just in the hospital and I’m still wearing the clothes they gave me”! She of course figured it out easily and thankfully she let me sit in the room adjacent to the therapy room that had a double sided mirror so I could watch him and also fall to pieces at the same time. Guess what happens next…? She calls the Department of Child and Family services on me since my state was so shaky…? I didn’t cancel the appointment I was there for his advancement despite what had happened.
The next day I’m doing some work on my computer and my doorbell rings repeatedly and banging on the door. I scream and heart pounds out of chest peeking out the window to see who it is absolutely petrified. It’s an officer coming to observe my house to make sure my son is safe. I couldn’t believe it. Here I am just having undergone a traumatic event and he gives me yet another anxiety/panic attack. He sees my clean house and apologizes for scaring me. I’m still surprised when I think about it how alone I was throughout this process. I didn’t receive much help in taking Lincoln so I could try to recover. In fact my mom even had the nerve to lecture me about how trusting I am and how I get myself in these messes, mentioning a previous incident. She says “Where were the angels? Maybe you aren’t being protected since you left Jehovah!” I scream at her “There aren’t any Angels obviously only Demons!!”. I was offered free counseling which of course I started doing. They also had that available for friends and family so they could understand and not say the wrong things. Nope. Never did. Continuing to lecture me and be pretty unavailable in taking him so that I could be alone to try as best as possible to “fix” myself. I always think of the song by Coldplay called “Fix you” and the line “When you lose something you can’t replace”- I think of this incident and how I lost the last shred of innocence I had….
* End of Story*
I put my house on the market that next week since I had not sleep a wink. Before it sold I moved anyway that following week into a new apartment since I just could Not stay there. It did sell thankfully and there wasn’t much of a monetary loss; however the loss I felt of being so proud to finally have my own house that I painted whatever colors I wanted, decorated however artsy way I wanted, the big backyard, pool, and playground my parents had bought for my son that he loved so much. Subsequently I went through a major depression for the next 6 months until I ran into my SPARCC advocate randomly visiting a friend in the hospital. It set me back a little at first recollecting that night, but then I remembered how amazing she was. She held my hand, cried with me, we made jokes to try to lighten the mood, and even had philosophical conversations. At that moment my depression shifted to determination because I realized I wanted to do what she did for me for others! I realized that if I could persevere through this then I would be the Perfect person to help others in a similar situation. So I signed up in a psychology college 2 days later and am actively working towards my degrees to pursue this new passion and goal!
So was it the worst experience of my life? Yes.
Instead of letting it destroy me though I went from “victim” to being a victor in progress since I survived and thrived, and will soon enough be empowering other women to do so. That is the silver lining. I have found that if you look hard enough you can always find one. The light at the end of the tunnel may be so dim it appears to be a 3 watt light bulb, But it is there…
Do bad things happen to good people and vice versa? Yes.
Has this taught me how powerful not powerless I am? Yes.
I will use this to be a steppingstone to provide benevolence towards as many people possible compelling awareness to this rarely talked about subject. If I can change at least one persons life to help them overcome this horrendous and heartbreaking warfare then I will die happy.
ADT (800 number), 911, Mike the ex husband (10 times and he didn’t pick up the phone), Mom, Natasha, and Dad. I couldn’t reach anyone
The quintessential rape victim photo
Ironically enough this was written on a dry erase board in one of the rooms at the hospital
ariellemegan 